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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28949700">It’s burning through to my soul</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moongazer12/pseuds/Moongazer12'>Moongazer12</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Swap, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inspired by Whiteley Foster, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens), Post-Scene: Paris 1793 (Good Omens), no actual on screen torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:07:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28949700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moongazer12/pseuds/Moongazer12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“If my people hear I rescued an angel, I'll be the one in trouble. And my lot do not send rude notes!”</p><p>Inspired by Whiteley Foster’s post, this is the story of how Crowley gets branded and is unable to touch Aziraphale without experiencing excruciating pain.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It’s burning through to my soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/gifts">WhiteleyFoster</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know that I’m super late to the party, but here’s my take on “My lot don’t send rude notes.” </p><p>This was inspired by Whiteleyfosters post on Tumblr. But tbh, that’s just the catalyst for the rest of the plot. But still, I hope you like it </p><p>Also, the title is from Burning Love by Elvis. The alternative title to this is ‘Just a hunk of burning (love)’</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <strong>
    <span class="u">
      <span class="s2">1793</span>
    </span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">The two were sitting at a table of some crêperie that Aziraphale swore was the best in Paris. They were perhaps sitting a little closer than they usually did (though they could just brush it off of the fact that there was very little space between the tables and chairs).</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Crowley, despite himself, was having a lovely time with Aziraphale. He knew he shouldn’t, not after literally stopping time for the angel, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to spend a little extra time with Aziraphale, so he did. It’s not like the forces of hell have payed any particular attention to him in centuries. But in the back of his mind a little voice was nagging at him to leave and get somewhere safe. He ignored it in favor of watching the angel take another bite of crêpe, moan, and do a little wiggle of pleasure. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Do you need a place to stay, Angel?” Crowley asked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I was just about to get a room, but then I was arrested by that horrid man.” Aziraphale made a face at the memory. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">”You can stay at my place, if you like.” Crowley offered. He had to stop himself from biting his lip. They do this dance quite often, but that doesn’t make him any less nervous. Maybe this will be the time that Aziraphale says yes.<br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Aziraphale hesitates. He opens and closes his mouth while he fidgets with his hands. Finally, the angel says quietly, “I don’t think my side would like that.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Crowley is thankful for the glasses that hides his eyes for he’s sure they betray his feelings. Not that he blames the angel. He remembers what it was like in heaven, how strict they were (and most likely still are). No, no it’s not his angels fault that Crowley wants more and Aziraphale can’t give it to him. And who’s to say that Aziraphale would want to, sure they flirt a bit from time to time; but who wouldn’t flirt with their sworn enemy-turned-friend that they’ve known for over 5 millennia? It’s a normal thing to do. Perfectly normal. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, there’s a very cheep hostel just up the road. Probably not up to</span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3"> your standards</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1">.” Crowley said with a coy smile and a wink. “If you’re looking for something better, there’s a hotel that’s a few rows down. Much closer to your </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s3">standardsss</span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1">.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Crowley, you are a menace, do you know that?” Aziraphale said fondly as he lightly hit the demon’s arm. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Corse I am, ‘s my job.” Crowley said just as fondly. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They chatted, and drank the rest of the night away. It was just the two of them left, the staff were cleaning the tables and giving them pointed looks. Aziraphale got the hint. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“My dear, we really should be going.” Aziraphale said, with a possible hint of sadness. Was he disappointed that their night was coming to an end? </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Let me walk you to your hotel, Angel.” Crowley said as he put down money on the table. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“If you insist.” Despite his words, Aziraphale seemed to brighten up at the suggestion. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They strolled together in companionable silence. They didn’t need to say anything. They just enjoyed being together. Once they made it to the hotel Aziraphale turned to him as if he was going to say something to him, so Crowley waited patiently like he always did for Aziraphale to make up his mind. They stood there for a few minutes until finally Aziraphale stood on his tiptoes, Kissed Crowley’s cheek, and whispered a hasty, yet soft, “Goodnight.” And then the angel retreated into the inn before Crowley could even respond. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Crowley walked away, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He had spent most of the day with Aziraphale. That hadn’t happen since..... since they saw Hamlet. And even then, it wasn’t like this. No this was different. Maybe. Just maybe it was the start of something new. And Aziraphale had given him a kiss on the cheek, and while that was in fashion nowadays, it didn’t stop Crowley’s metaphorical heartbeat speeding up every time he thought about it. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Crowley was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice the two figures lurking, following him. It wasn’t until they were nearly on top of him that he whirled around to see who was so close to him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Crowley.” Growled Ligur. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“H-hi Duke Ligur.Duke Hastur.” Crowley said with a bow, only because his brain was on autopilot. “What an unpleasant surprise. What brings you to Paris? Come to see all the fuss about the Reign of Terror and the guillotines?” Crowley was babbling. He was freaking out. Why were they here? No one ever came to check on him? He didn’t matter. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“We received a memo that you stopped time.” Duke Ligur plowed on as if he didn’t hear a word Crowley said. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Fuck. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That’s what he was afraid they’d say. Still. Crowley is nothing if not a quick and imaginative thinker. “Ah. Yes. That. I was... just messing around with the humans. Stopping time. Changing things up. You know how it is.” Crowley said with a nervous chuckle. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Ligur and Hastur looked at him. “We don’t ‘know how it is’.” Said Hastur. “Maybe you could explain to us why you were seen helping an angel?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“And then dining with him.” Ligur added. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“And then him giving you a kiss on the cheek.” Hastur sneered. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“There’s a perfectly logical explanation guys.” Crowley said. “I was helping him out so that he owed me a favor. And then tempting him to gluttony with food and lust with sex.” Crowley hoped that their love of the seven deadly sins would overpower whatever caused them to look into him. But he had no such luck. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Doesn’t really matter what your intentions were. It looked like you were consorting with the enemy. You will be punished for that.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Come on guys. We can work this out.” Crowley pleaded. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Ligur said as he punched Crowley in the gut. “No we cannot.” He then dragged Crowley’s body down to Hell where they tortured him for days and at the end of it burned a brand into corporation and true form that would keep him from being able to touch anything holy. Once Crowley made it back to Earth he napped for a century. He could do anything else. But once he woke up, he knew he needed protection. He had a plan, he just needed Aziraphale’s help.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="u">
    <strong>
      <span class="s1">1941</span>
    </strong>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Little demonic miracle of my own.” Crowley tried passing the books back without touching Aziraphale- he did not need to be in more pain than he already was- but he accidentally brushed his thumb against the angel. He bit back a scream, as both his hand (where he touched Aziraphale) and his chest (where the brand was) burned. The pain was worse than consecrated ground. Of corse it was. Aziraphale was a being so holy that G-d herself wouldn’t cast him out for lying to her. Obviously it’s going to hurt. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Lift home?” Crowley somehow manages to get out sounding blasé. The demon usually would be celebrating at this moment about how he just saved the angel again and how cool he probably looked while doing it, but it was hard to concentrate on anything that wasn’t the agonizing pain of his feet and his brand. Having come into contact with something so holy burns. He knew he should have actually worn shoes today, but did he? No. So now he has burns on his feet from essentially walking barefoot onto consecrated ground. The demon isn’t event able to drive, instead letting the Bentley take over and get them where they need to go. He’s grateful that Aziraphale is quiet for some unknown reason, so that he doesn’t have to try to listen to the angel and pretend that nothing is wrong. That is,until they get to the bookshop where Aziraphale finally seems to have found his voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Do you want to come it?” The Angel offers. This is the first time Aziraphale has offered instead of Crowley pushing. Crowley wishes that he’d asked any other night. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Huh? Oh, uh, ‘m not sure tha’sss a good idea Angel.” Though Crowley tried to hide it, there was obvious pain in his voice. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh my dear, are you okay?” Concern laced in Aziraphale’s voice.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Juss peachy, Angel.” The demon said through gritted teeth, still looking forward through the windshield and not at his friend. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He goes to put a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “But-“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Crowley panics and says, “Just drop it, okay?! There’sss nothing you can do, sso just go back to your booksss an your booksssshop an pretend ery’thinss fine. ‘Ssssswot we alwaysss do innit?” The pain is so excruciating that Crowley can barely form words, let alone sentences. He couldn’t take anymore pain, he couldn’t risk Aziraphale touching his shoulder. Then he’d crack. He needs to get the angel to leave. It wouldn’t do to let Aziraphale see him like this. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aziraphale has a stunned, hurt expression on his face. He drops his hand back down and fidgets with his fingers. If he were human, he’d probably be blinking back tears. But Aziraphale doesn’t want to, so they don’t dare appear on his face. Instead he nods to Crowley, and then quietly, brokenly says, “Mind how you go.” And quickly exits the vehicle as fast as he can, and makes a beeline to his shop. The door closes with a firm slam. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Later, when the pain has receded, Crowley will feel like shit for saying that to Aziraphale. He will replay that moment over and over again, wish he could somehow go back in time to fix it. But he cannot. All he knows is that he probably blew his one and only chance to be anything more than friends and probably even that.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="u">
    <strong>
      <span class="s1">The night after the apocalypse that wasn’t</span>
    </strong>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Crowley didn’t have a good feeling about this plan. Not that Aziraphale had come up with a bad plan, it was of course bloody brilliant. No, had a bad feeling about what might happen to either one of them when they switched bodies. He wasn’t sure if his brand would effect Aziraphale, and that was no something he wanted to subject the angel to. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Lets do it.” Aziraphale said eagerly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Wot, now?” Crowley protested. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Do you have a better time?” Aziraphale asked sarcastically. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No, it’s just, I think we should discuss how we’re going to, you know, do it.” Crowley said. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Well, I was thinking that we’d just discorporate from our bodies and then jump into the others.” Aziraphale said matter of factly. That’s what Crowley had been afraid of. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What if we flowed into each other’s bodies?” Crowley suggested. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“How?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Like this.” Crowley took a deep breath and gently took Aziraphale by the hand. It burned, of course, Crowley had slowly become accustomed to the pain over the centuries, but that doesn’t stop the first wave of pain. Like jumping into a pool of freezing cold water- except 100xs worse. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">For now, he slowly pushed his essence into Aziraphale’s corporation. Entering into Aziraphale’s body wasn’t </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">nearly painful as walking into the church, or even hold Aziraphale’s hand. The reason it didn’t hurt as much was because the corporation itself wasn’t holy. Even still, Crowley’s brand still burned slightly because something holy- much more holy than consecrated ground- had lived in it for 6000 years. That holiness had seeped into the inside of the corporation. Except, unlike when Crowley walked on consecrated ground, he had nowhere to hop to. This was about as painful as being on a beach in bare feet. As long as he didn’t stay in here too long, he’d be fine. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Crowley, now in Aziraphale’s corporation, looked back at himself to see if the angel had any discomfort. To his surprise, and relief, Aziraphale seemed fine. Now if only he could get himself under control. Crowley stumbled a little. He righted himself then took a steadying breath. He could do this. For Aziraphale, he must. There wasn’t another way. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Are you alright, my dear?” Aziraphale asked nervously. Crowley gritted his teeth and nodded. “Are you sure? We can figure out another way-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“There’s no time. I’m fine. Just getting use to a new body, you know how that is, Angel. New teeth, that’s weird. And how do you see things from down here?” Crowley’s musings worked at distracting Aziraphale away from the problem. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’m a perfectly normal hight, thank you!” Aziraphale interjected. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“And, Satan, is that what red looks like?” Crowley continued as if Aziraphale hadn’t interrupted. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What, hold on. What do you mean, is that what red looks like?” The angel asked. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Take off the glasses, Angel. Slowly. Don’t want to hurt your eyes now.” Crowley said softly. Aziraphale did as he asked. A small gasp escaped his lips when he saw the world the way Crowley did. He looked like he was about to say something, probably full of pity- Crowley would not have that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He looked down and made a face. “Tartan would still be as atrocious with full color as it is without.” Crowley grumbled. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Tartan is stylish, you fiend!” It was an old argument. One warm down by time. They loved to revisit it every now and again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“If you say so, Angel. We should switch back and finish the plan.” Crowley was itching to get out. It felt like his true form was slowly starting to get a sunburn from Aziraphale’s corporation right at his brand. He might as well take a little bit of a break, who knows how long he’ll have to be in it later. But when he looked back up at Aziraphale, the angel had a little put on his lips. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I was thinking...” Aziraphale started, “maybe we should stay in each other’s corporations. You never know when they’re going to come looking for us. It’s probably for the best we stay switched.” As if Crowley could say no to Aziraphale’s pouts, he also couldn’t deny his friends logic. He sighed internally, knowing that this wasn’t his best idea- but what else did he have? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Okay. Now, what’s the rest of the plan?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong>
    <span class="u">
      <span class="s1">A few days after their trials</span>
    </span>
  </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Crowley, who’s true form looked closer to when he “sauntered vaguely down” into a pool of sulfur than what it did last week, was in dire need of a nap. Not a little snooze that he usually does for fun, but the ‘sleep a century away because he needs to heal’ kind of nap. He knows how much it offended Aziraphale the last time he left with no note, so this time he plans on telling him. He takes the angel out to the Ritz. They have a lovely time talking, reminiscing, and it isn’t until they’ve gotten dessert that Crowley reveals his intentions. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Angel.” Crowley says, he’s a little nervous, he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “I, uh, I have to tell you something.” This gets Aziraphale’s attention. He sets down his fork- before he finished his cake, that’s never happened, ever- and turns to Crowley, giving the demon his full attention. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Ngk.” Is all Crowley could manage at that moment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What is it you wanted to tell me, my dear?” Aziraphale gives the demon a warm smile. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I- I need a nap.” Crowley says. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You’re welcomed to take one when we get back to the shop.” Aziraphale said. He tactfully didn’t point out that for the past few days the demon practically lived there anyways, and might as well just start sleeping over. It would probably fluster the demon too much. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No, not that kind of nap. A long nap.” Crowley could see the words register in the angel’s mind, and saw Aziraphale’s face slowly morph, from disappointment to resignation to a poker face- well, as good of a poker face as Aziraphale could manage around Crowley which wasn’t that great (unless it was the feeling of love that he felt for Crowley, that he was good at hiding from the demon). </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh.” Aziraphale said as neutrally as possible, but there was still a tinge of sadness in it. “H- how long?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I need time to rest, time to heal, time to-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Heal?! You said everything went fine at the trial. What happened?!?” Aziraphale worried eyes bore into Crowley. The demon sighed. He was hoping that he wouldn’t have to explain this. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I’ll explain once we’re back home- at the bookshop, okay?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded. He didn’t seem to enjoy his cake as much as he had before. Crowley paid and drove them back to the shop. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Now what’s so bad that you need a nap, and you couldn’t tell me at dinner?” Aziraphale asked the second the shop door shut. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“This.” Crowley closes his eyes and showed Aziraphale his true form. It had second and third degree burns all over it. There were patches of blisters and chard essence that spiraled out from his chest. Aziraphale gasped, with tears in his eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What, what happened to you?” Aziraphale whispered, a hand coming up to cup Crowley’s cheek once the demon was done revealing his true form. Crowley flinched. Aziraphale removed his hand and looked sadly, questioningly at Crowley. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Being so close to your corporation.” Crowley said quietly. He was looking at Aziraphale’s forehead, for he couldn’t meet the angels eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“What? What do you mean?” Aziraphale asked. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I have this brand from hell and it doesn’t like it when I come into contact with holy things.” Crowley said as matter of factly as he could. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“So you mean to tell me that I’ve been hurting you? All this time? Why didn’t you say anything!?!” Aziraphale cried taking a step back from the demon. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No, not this whole time, Angel. Not most of the time. I only got this in 1793.” Crowley said. This is going about as well as he’d thought it would. Which is to say it’s going to shit. He expects any minute now for Aziraphale to kick him out and to not want to see him again. And now that they don’t have work to bring them together, they might never reconcile. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“179-.... the reign of terror. ‘My lot don’t send rude notes.’ You got a brand because of me?!” A horrified, guilty look crosses Aziraphale’s face and camps there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“No.” Said Crowley firmly. “I made my choice to save you. I knew what Hell was capable of and I still made my choice. For Heaven’s sake Angel, it’s not your fault, so don’t you dare blame yourself. It’s my fault for making the choice, and it’s Hell’s fault for torturing me.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I know I should have told you. I just didn’t want you to worry. And to be honest, I didn’t want you to stop touching me. It.... it made me feel wanted.” Aziraphale’s eyes soften. The angel looks like he wants to hug Crowley so bad, but he refrains from doing that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Oh, Crowley. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I realize I don’t always show it, but I do want you.” Aziraphale says softly. “Now I know you need your rest. You are more than welcomed to rest here, my dear. I have a bed I never use, and it would put me at ease knowing that you were safe.” Aziraphale offered. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Crowley cleared his throat (of feelings). “Yeah Angel. That would be great.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Aziraphale does a little wiggle and smiles. He’s about to show Crowley to his room when a thought occurred to him. He turned back around and stared directly at his demon.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Crowley.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“You said you couldn’t touch holy things.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Mmhmm”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“How on Earth did you survive 1941?” Aziraphale asked seriously. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“I think that’s a story for after I rest, don’t you, Angel?” Crowley said. Future Crowley would hate him for not dealing with his problems, but that wasn’t present Crowley’s problem so he didn’t care. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“That was consecrated ground Crowley! How could you take that risk? You don’t even wear shoes?!?” Aziraphale took a breath to stop himself from going into full rant/panic mode right then and there. Maybe it was a good idea to have this conversation later. This would give Crowley time to heal, and Aziraphale time to cool down and collect his thoughts. “Okay, we’ll talk later, but don’t think that this means this conversation is over.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Crowley shrugged. His eyelids were drooping and he stifled a yawn. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Lets get you a nap and then we’ll sort out everything else later.” Aziraphale said. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">“Lead the way Angel.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoyed it! Comments and Kudos fuel me. Think of it as tipping your waiter, these are my emotional tips. </p><p>My tumblr is Flaming-like-anyting. Come say hi. ^-^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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